In the recesses of my mind, a memory stirs, Of sunlit days and the sound of laughter's blurs, A time of innocence, of scraped knees and summer's hum, A chapter of my life I thought had long been done.

The scent of fresh-cut grass, the taste of melting ice, The thrill of chasing fireflies as day turned to night, I'd forgotten those moments, lost in life's rapid tide, But now they flood back, vivid and wide.

The treehouse in the backyard, our secret little den, The countless hours spent with paper and pen, Sketching out dreams, and crafting tales so grand, In that fleeting world where imagination took a stand.

But time, it marches on, relentless in its pace, Childhood became a memory, a softly fading trace, Yet now, in this quiet moment, it all returns so clear, A reminder of a time I still hold dear.

For though years have passed and life has changed its view, That child within remains, genuine and true, A part of me had forgotten, but now I understand, Childhood never leaves; it just waits to hold our hand.